A Flickering Flame
by chemicalflashes
Summary: "Colin Creevey was not tiny in death. And certainly not fragile. Not by a long shot. He was a soul larger than life who was scattered to the winds. Do you know who destroyed Umbridge's office in your fifth year?" Silence greeted her. [Or in which we get to see Colin Creevey through the eyes of Minerva McGonagall]
A/N: _Figured I needed to write drabbles since I've never written any. And ultimately this turned out to be a collection of drabbles and not a single drabble as I had hoped._

 **A Flickering Flame**

1

Ever since Minerva McGonagall had first seen the boy, she had thought of her little brother who had died too young. He had been a ball of excitement and the boy who stood in front of her reminded her too much of him and she was sorry that she had to be the one to reprimand him.

"How many times must I tell you, Mr. Creevey?"

He didn't reply and just looked down, towards the floor, trying to look ashamed. Trying— because she knew that he really wasn't.

"I don't want any more complaints involving that wretched camera of yours, understood? Otherwise I would be forced to take points from my own house. You may leave,"

He nodded silently and exited with a spring in his steps. She watched him go, muttering something under her breath.

Later that year when he was petrified, she was shocked to see him frozen on the bed, his hand still clutching his beloved camera to his face. When Albus told her that he was alive because of his camera, she had reflexively sighed in relief. This boy was too adventurous for his own good and somehow she had a very bad inkling that someday it was going to get him killed.

From that moment onwards, Minerva McGonagall swore that she would look out for Colin Creevey.

2

The next year he was as excited as ever but she noted that he was always alone in his excitment. He was always clicking photos but nobody was clicking his.

"Why don't you try socialising with others?" she asked him one evening in amidst the bustling common room.

He shrugged and said, "They find me annoying. All of them,"

The way he said it with a half smile made her a little sad.

"You would never know if you don't start trying. Leave your camera for once. Look, there's Jack Sloper moping by himself on his Potions essay. You like Potions, don't you? Won't you help him?"

"I..."

She raised one sharp eyebrow.

"Of course, Professor. Of course,"

Some days later she was overjoyed to see that the two of them had become the best of friends.

3

The next year, his brother arrived and his single act of stalking Potter became a double one. She could not stop smiling at their antics even though she tried very hard to not do so. She helped him with getting into Hogsmeade; apparently Filch thought him to be too small for a third year, which she realised after the incident, was true.

Him and his brother— they ran around the castle, he more than his brother when the decorations for the Yule Ball were put up.

She saw him sneaking in the Yule Ball when nobody did, trying to capture the memorable moments with his camera. She belatedly realised that his sneaking skills were too good and when she saw him taking a photo of her dancing with Albus, she discretely narrowed her eyes at him but immediately smiled afterwards.

4

Times were dark and Umbridge was ruining the School. Thoroughly. And she could see that the Toad was having fun while she was at it.

She told Filch to let Dennis accompany his brother to Hogsmeade, telling him that the boy in question was a third year even though she was fully aware that he was a second year.

Not many knew that she had been rebellious in her Hogwarts days too.

One evening, the Toad summoned Colin to her hideous kitty themed office and when he came back, he wasn't the same boy she knew. Gone were the excited brown eyes; the brown was now dull and lifeless. Later she came to know that the hideous office too, hadn't been the same after his departure; apparently somehow all the kitties had turned real while he had been in there. Not everybody knew about it because Umbridge was trying her best to keep the incident undercover.

"How did you do it?" she asked him some days later as he stood in front of her desk.

"What?"

"The Drama in Professor Umbridge's office,"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Professor," he replied in the same monotonous voice as before but his eyes were twinkling since the first time that day.

"Have a biscuit, Creevey," she told him with a smirk.

5

In his fifth year he told her that he was suspicious of Malfoy's activities and she had told him that she was too. The year had passed relatively peacefully as compared to the last year but she was not surprised to learn that both of them were having their doubts.

Albus died that year. Both of them had been right— something awfully wicked has been going on from the beginning.

At the funeral, she told him everything in just a single sentence.

"Run, and don't come back,"

6

He had to come back, didn't he? He had to make use of his sneaking skills.

"What part of 'Run, and don't come back' you don't understand, Creevey!"

"Perhaps, 'the don't come back' part, Professor,"

"Well understand it now," she said and cleared her throat. "GET OUT OF THE CASTLE. NOW!" she thundered. He went away without another word of disobedience.

In hindsight, she should have petrified him and seen to it with her own eyes that he got out, perhaps then he wouldn't have been lying dead on the cold stone floor with blood oozing from his unmoving chest. Oliver Wood told her that he died a valiant death— a hero's death. As if that piece of information could relieve her aching heart. As if that could bring back Creevey. Nothing could bring back her brother a third time. She knew it and she did not cry. Not a single tear.

7

At the collective funeral service when Potter mentioned each and every fallen student's name, he said something about them too.

When Creevey's turn came he said, "He was this unstoppable bubble of excitement. I was shocked to see him among the dead because I had never expected it. He was so tiny in death, so fragile,"

He was about to speak the next name when her hand shot up.

"Hey, Potter!" she spoke and stood up, shattering the tranquil silence.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall?"

"Colin Creevey was not tiny in death. And certainly not fragile. Not by a long shot. He was a soul larger than life who was scattered to the winds. Do you know who destroyed Umbridge's office in your fifth year?"

Silence greeted her.

"Creevey. He transfigured all the pictures of kittens in her office into real ones," A grin broke on her face while hushed murmurs broke out in the crowd. "None of you knew that, did you?"

Potter looked at her as if someone had just told him that Voldemort was coming back.

"I..."

"Continue, please,"

8

Dennis handed her a letter after the service. He told her that Colin had written several of these letters to the people he was closest to while they had been on the run and told him to deliver them to their intended addresses in case he died. Dennis had been choking on his own sobs as he told her all this.

She opened hers with shivering fingers.

 _Dear Professor McGonagall_

 _If you are reading this, then I'm dead and I hope I died doing the right thing._

 _I am writing this to express my profound gratitude to you. You were the first person who introduced me to the magical world. Thank you for always looking out for me, Professor. You made me who I was._

 _Yours Sincerely_

 _Colin Creevey_

 _P.S:- I never told you how I did it, did I? It was nothing but an accident. I also know you think that that isn't true. Rest assured, it isn't. Let me take a secret to the grave, Professor._

There were tears in her eyes but she smiled anyway.

* * *

So how was it? Am I getting any reviews? Please?


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